Love is Blind
by quackers102
Summary: "You're blind, Draco." Granger's soft words sent his mind reeling out of control; made him want to choke the life out of her for speaking the truth that he desperately wished to see as a lie. You're blind. You'll never see again. DMHG
1. Find Me

**A/N: I couldn't resist. I had to post this. So here's the first chapter of my second full-length fic! It will probably take me a while to update, as I'm in my hardest year of High School, but I hope you guys stick with me through this one :)**

**Warning: Strong language  
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**Love Is Blind**

_"Perhaps only in a world of the blind will things be what they truly are."_

Chapter 1: Find Me

It was only a few days until a full moon. The pale glow was basking over the forest and shining everything in a silver light. There was a soft wind, ruffling at the young girl's hair that was traveling through the woods quickly and quietly, her lips pursed together in concentration and her eyes narrowed. There were others around her, heading in opposite directions, searching the wood for sign of something. A Muggle had reported that they heard something only hours before; something like an explosion coming from the forest. So the members of the Order of the Phoenix had gotten the news and headed for the forest near the Muggle town expecting evidence of a recent battle that they had been too late for. However, the forest was eerily quiet, not at all what they had been expecting.

Hermione was determined not to be afraid, although her mind kept screaming _set up! _Surely Death Eaters would appear from the trees and laugh at their foolishness to fall for such a simple attack? But she had Harry, and Ron, and Mad-Eye, and Lupin, and even Snape. There were many there, and they were all quite skilled. Death Eaters would have to be quite confident to attack them.

She entered a clearing. The moon shone brightly, making everything look silver and mystical. She hesitated. There was something, just ahead. It looked terrifyingly like a body. She thought of calling to the others, but decided against it. She could handle this.

Taking a deep breath, and stowing herself for the worst, Hermione walked closer to the object and inspected its face, looking for recognition.

She screamed.

Hermione fell on her back and used her feet to propel herself backwards and barely was able to contain the vomit that was threatening to burst forth. Harry and Ron were there in an instant, followed by practically everyone that had joined them on the mission. Harry reached her first and asked, "What's wrong?"

She shook her head and raised a shaking hand to point at the body, which Lupin was inspecting. Harry left her to join Lupin, but Ron stayed by her side and helped her into a sitting position. She leaned into him and turned her face away from the body.

The man's face had been horribly disfigured. The skin on one side of his face was bubbly and distorted, and looked as if had been shredded and clawed to pieces and burned at the same time. It covered the entire left side of his face, all the way from the top of his forehead to the left side of his lip, which was tugged up a tiny bit from the disfiguration.

"It's Malfoy." Harry whispered in shock, and Hermione lifted her head up to stare at him in disbelief. "This is Draco Malfoy."

She shook her head, but refused to look again at his face. "That's impossible. He's on the Death Eater's side; they wouldn't do this to him."

Harry grimaced and turned his face away from Malfoy, who Lupin was currently still inspecting. "You don't think-"

"No." Lupin immediately cut Harry off, shaking his head firmly. "None of our own would do this. This is terribly dark magic. It's irreparable."

Hermione was on the verge of questioning why it mattered when he was dead, when Lupin reached down and touched Draco's shoulder. If the state of his face had scared Hermione, the scream that immediately ripped from Draco's mouth terrified her. It was a shriek that told of horrible pain, of torture; a scream that begged: kill me. His back arched up violently and he began to thrash his arms, his eyes squeezed shut, and she almost _wished_ he were dead, just so he would not have to suffer so horribly…no one deserved this, not even Malfoy.

"We've got to get him out of here. Remus and I will take him to the Order. The rest of you search the area for any more." Mad-Eye ordered as Remus lifted the thrashing Draco in his arms. He muttered a spell and Draco became limp in his arms. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief at the blessed silence that filled the clearing, and then they were gone, and Hermione could see again.

They split up to search the forest again, but Hermione found she could not concentrate. The mental picture of Draco's ripped face kept popping in her mind, making her lean over and clutch her stomach again and again. She was sure she would vomit. It had been the most hideous thing she had ever had the misfortune to set eyes upon. Why had they done it to _him_? They would just go and do that to one of their own? Maybe he had tried to get away from them, and they had found him…

"Hermione." Hermione jumped about a foot in the air but relaxed when Harry popped out of the forest in front of her, shaking off some branches that had snagged to his sweater. He cast a look over his shoulder. "Let's go back. There's nothing else here. I think everyone else has already left."

She nodded, not even aware of how much time had passed since they had found Draco. She did not particularly want to return, however. She did not want to see Malfoy; did not want to hear his wails and screams of pain. She did not think she could even take it.

But she grabbed hold of Harry's offered arm and took a deep breath as they Apparated onto the front step of the Order and entered.

It was always a bustle of movement in the kitchen, but it seemed much more subdued tonight. The Aurors were sitting around the table and Hermione could _see_ the disgust in their eyes at what they had seen. Mrs. Weasley wasn't even bustling around, but sitting still in an armchair. "That poor boy," she muttered as Harry threw his cloak on the hanger. "That poor boy."

"How is he?" Harry asked Lupin, who was sitting on the couch, nodding at Molly's words.

"We cleaned off all the blood. He's not going to die, but his face is permanently disfigured. And he's been blinded; no doubt by the fire that destroyed his face. He's resting, now. He shouldn't feel any pain when he wakes; we gave him a potion for that."

The news shocked all. He was _blind._ He could not see. He would need help getting around, dressing, bathing, eating…He would need help with _everything_.

"Someone should probably sit with him, in case he wakes up. He'll panic when he can't see, and he won't know where he is."

"I'll do it."

The entire room looked at Hermione, shocked. She was even shocked at _herself_, and had not even been aware she was about to say it until the words left her mouth. She couldn't even stand to _look _at him, how did she expect to sit there and wait for him to wake up?

Lupin, oblivious to her inner turmoil, nodded. "He's in the room on the second floor, first door on the left. He doesn't have a wand, so he won't be of any threat."

She nodded and took a deep breath, heading for the stairs. They creaked underneath her weight, and it seemed the longest trek up the stairs she had ever taken. They seemed suddenly daunting and menacing, like they were going to cave in underneath her and send her falling and she would be just as helpless as Malfoy would be…

The door opened easily when she pushed it; ignoring her hopes that it would be jammed and she would not be able to enter. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then looked at him.

The absence of blood only made it seem much more real. If she had once thought Mad-Eye Moody's scars had been disgusting, now he seemed as if he were the most beautiful man in the world. Draco's entire left face looked as if it had been carved of wood, with ripples and holes and it was just so _unnatural._ It looked like something out of those horror movies that her dad had tried to make her watch. He didn't look _human_.

The right side of his face gave you a cruel taste of what he had once looked like. You could tell that he had once had porcelain, smooth skin, and had been decent looking. She was tempted to put a hand over the left side of his face so that he looked like Draco Malfoy. His blond hair was relatively untouched, which he would at least be pleased to hear. Maybe.

Perhaps it was a blessing that he had been blinded, so that he would not have to see his own reflection.

She pulled up a chair next to the bed and chose to stare at her hands in her lap rather than his face. It was oh so difficult to look at his face and hold down her dinner. Vaguely, she wondered if he'd be hungry.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there, but she did know drowsiness was beginning to take effect. It was late; it had been near midnight when they set off for the forest. She was just beginning to rest her head in her hands and perhaps take a little nap, because he surely wasn't going to wake up…

He stirred. She jerked to full awareness and watched him, waiting for a reaction. His eyes opened. They were still grey, but had a cloudiness to them that made it obvious he could not see. She saw the panic in his face for a terrifying moment as he groped around.

"Relax, Malfoy. You're safe."

His head jerked towards her. He scowled immediately, recognizing her voice and crossed his arms over his chest. "Turn on the light, Granger." He demanded, his voice cold and harsh. "And tell me what's going on."

She felt incredibly regretful as she said, "The light _is _on, Draco."

His face flittered with confusion for a moment, and then he swung his arm wildly at the direction of her voice. He missed her by a few feet, and she shook her head. "Turn the damn light on before I really get angry."

"I promise you that the light is on." Hermione said, surveying his face as the realization set in.

The panic attack was inevitable, and Hermione could do nothing but watch as the blond boy leaned over and balled his fists in his hair and began to hyperventilate. He took in great, gasping breaths with his head down. Something in Hermione wanted to reach out to him and comfort him, but she knew that Malfoy would not appreciate it.

Then he snatched his head up and his sightless eyes began to search the room, desperately attempting to catch a sight of something, of anything, to assure him that it was all a lie.

And then those eyes fixed on her.

She gasped involuntarily, leaning back as the bottomless voids settled on her. It was like they went on forever; no end, no emotion, no life. She was shocked to see tears in his cloudy eyes, but knew she shouldn't be shocked at all. Finally, his eyes moved away from her, darting about with nothing to focus on, and she was able to breathe normally again.

Hermione did not want them to ever settle on her again.

It was a childish hope and she was not being very sympathetic, but there was something about the way his eyes did not take her in, something about how they looked like weeping voids, something all too creepy and foreboding about it.

"Turn the fucking lights on, Granger, or you'll be sorry. I'm not blind. This is all a trick by your damn Order. I'll give you three seconds. Turn. The. Lights. On."

An overwhelming sense of sympathy washed over Hermione. He was Draco Malfoy, but really, not even Malfoy deserved this. "Don't you remember anything?" Hermione asked, trying to stop the constant roving of his eyes.

He was silent for a long moment and his eyes stilled at last, and she knew he was desperately trying to fill the void in his memories. And then he let out a shocked gargle of a sound and his hands slowly lifted towards his face. They probed and touched the mangled side of his face and she saw the complete panic in his expression, so reached out and touched his knee. He jerked away immediately and spat out, "Don't touch me, Mudblood."

"I'm just trying to help, ferret." She hissed, glaring at him even though he could not see her.

"Where are we?" He said in a demanding tone, as if he were trying to act as if he were in control of the situation. She crossed her arms and knew it would be pointless arguing, so answered him.

"The Order of the Phoenix."

"Oh, goody."

"You're just lucky we found you." Hermione snapped.

"Oh, I'm just _terribly_ lucky."

Hermione threw up her arms in frustration. "At least we didn't leave you there lying on the ground! _I_ found you, you know."

His face softened somewhat and he turned away from her. "How bad is it? Don't lie." His voice was soft and broken, and her glare disappeared immediately. She could not help but feel sympathy for him.

"It's…it's not good."

"Like…is it the worst thing you've ever seen?"

"Malfoy…this is stupid…"

"Just _tell_ me."

"No."

He groaned at her unwillingness and his unseeing eyes darted about, as if searching for something, _anything_ that would tell him it was all a lie, that he could still see and that his face wasn't as hideous as he knew it was. "Are you hungry?" She asked, in a desperate attempt to change the subject.

He frowned. "I guess."

"Do you want me to bring it to you, or do you want to go downstairs?"

"I doubt I could make it downstairs, Granger, unless you want to see me take a tumble."

"Well I could _help."_

"That would mean you have to touch me, and I'll die before I allow a Mudblood to touch me."

"You know, I might just leave you on your own."

"Do it." He lay down and turned his back to her. "See if I care."

She huffed and crossed her arms, glaring at his back and standing up. "Fine. Have fun starving."

She marched out of the room and slammed the door shut behind her, trying to squash the feeling of complete and utter sorrow.

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**A/N: I know it sort of starts off slow, but hang in there :) Review!**


	2. Heal Me

**A/N: Yay, chapter 2! I think I updated pretty fast :)**

**Thanks to: underamyth3, Ceylon, Love-Never-Fails, yayaomation88, Nienna Tinehtele, vesper, Amortentiaa, and xAnnabubbleX for reviewing! It really means a lot to me :)**

**xAnnabubbleX: Thank you! I'd like to thank the Academy...haha jk. But really, thanks! I'm honored :)**

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_"Because you're not what I would have you be, I blind myself to who, in truth, you are" Madeleine L'Engle_

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Chapter 2: Heal Me

"Hermione, would you take this plate up to Mr. Malfoy?" Mrs. Weasley asked, offering Hermione a plate that was flooding with all sorts of breakfast foods. There was toast, eggs, bacon, and a heaping amount of pancakes. She shoved a glass of orange juice in Hermione's free hand before she could even say no, but she wouldn't have said it to Mrs. Weasley anyway. It was quite difficult to say no to Mrs. Weasley.

She opened the door with some trouble, having to resort to opening it by pressing her back to it and heaving. It swung open and crashed against the wall, and Malfoy, who had been sitting with his back to the door, jumped in surprise. "Who's there?" He immediately questioned, his blind eyes searching the room.

"Relax, Malfoy, it's just me."

He did calm down, but he scowled. "What are you doing here?"

"Bringing _you_ breakfast. I'm setting it on the bed…right in front of you."

"Ok, I'm not a baby." He snapped, and his hands groped around and found the plate and pulled it closer to him. The first things he touched were the pancakes, and she giggled softly as his face contorted in a moment of confusion, but he just smirked after a second and shoved a pancake in his mouth with his hand. Syrup dripped from his fingers and he sucked on his index finger loudly.

"There _is_ a fork there, you know."

"I prefer my hands." He continued to eat messily, and Hermione wasn't sure if she should leave or stay. Did he expect her to? Was she supposed to go, now? "I would've left by now, you know." Draco's voice had gotten darker, and she backed away a bit. "I wouldn't still be here. But, I'm not quite sure I could make it down the stairs. And…I have no where to go."

He said the last sentence in a defeated whisper, and he turned his face away so that the left side was hidden from view, and all she could see was the Draco side. It made him look more human and she was comforted by that fact. "You can stay here as long as you want." She said, then asked a bit softer, "Why'd they do it to you?" She wasn't sure if he would answer, but it was worth a try.

He scoffed and bit ferociously into another pancake. "I failed another mission. They got tired of it. Said I was useless."

That came as a bit of a surprise. She had expected to be assured of his loyalties by him saying that he had tried to escape from them but they had caught him and enforced punishment. She had hoped for that answer, but had practically been slapped in the face. Almost fearing the answer, Hermione asked, "And…the mission was?"

He stared somewhere over her left shoulder, as if trying to find her eyes to relay the meaning of his next words. "Kill you." Her hands flew to her mouth immediately, and he smirked, correctly judging her reaction. "Don't get me wrong, Granger, there was no sympathetic shit involved. You were just a hard girl to find." He vaguely waved a hand in her direction and took a handful of eggs from his plate, chewing on them slowly.

Kill her? What was the importance of that? Shouldn't it have been more along the lines of…find Harry and bring him to Voldemort? Oh Merlin, had they assigned the task to someone else as well? Wait…did he want to kill her now?

She backed away from him slowly, suddenly afraid. "And…if you were given the chance, would you kill me now? And go back to them?"

Draco rolled his clouded eyes as if he were speaking to a child. "Please, Granger. I'm blind and don't have a wand. If I could somehow manage to kill you then you deserve to die. And besides, why would I want to go back to the people who did _this_ to me?" He pointed to the mutilated side of his face with a grimace.

"Did your father do it?" She asked, her voice higher than normal.  
His face darkened. "No. What is it with you people thinking my father is one of the worst Death Eaters there is and abuses me frequently? No, my father _cares_ for me, thank you ever so much."

She was actually pleased to hear the news. "I'm sorry."

He snorted, and waved her away. "Leave me alone. Your Mudblood stench is making it hard to stomach my food."

"Yeah, well your _face _is making it hard to keep down mine." She regretted the words the moment they left her mouth, but she did not stay around to hear a retort or for him to attempt to kill her right then, blindness be damned. She stomped out of the room and slammed the door shut behind herself, angry at his pointless prejudices and his attitude in general.

"He hasn't changed a bit!" She hissed at Harry, who was staring at her from across the hall with a confused expression, having just come out of his room. He just shook his head and chuckled.

"You better get used to him, Hermione. We can't just kick him out and I'm pretty sure everyone's decided that you are his new personal helper."

"What?" Hermione screeched.

"Well, since you offered to go up to him last night, they've kind of decided you're best for the job."

"I will _not_ give him a bath."

Harry laughed, descending the stairs. "Well have fun smelling him, then!"

Hermione huffed and crossed her arms for good measure.

Hermione later was commanded to take a plate of lunch to Malfoy, and rather than pointlessly argue and make herself look like a heartless witch, she complied. When she entered the room he was not in his bed and she felt a moment of panic before she noticed him inching along the wall, his hands spread out and feeling the wall as if looking for something. "What are you doing?"

He jumped terribly and scowled in her general direction. "Looking for the bathroom, idiot."

She sighed and set down the tray on the dresser next to his bed and walked near him. He tensed as if she was about to attack him, but she took his wrist. "Don't touch me." He spat, but did not yank his hand away.

"Really, Malfoy. If you want to feel along the wall for twenty minutes and end up in the closet, be my guest, but if not, I can lead you to the bathroom." He did not reply, and she took that as a go ahead and directed him to the bathroom, leading him inside and taking a step back. He stood there in the doorway for a moment with his eyes closed and it unnerved her. He didn't need them to be open, of course, but it didn't look right. He stood for a few moments, and she began to get uncomfortable. "Erm, you don't need help, do-"

He promptly slammed the door in her face without warning. She frowned and shouted, "That could've hit me, you know!"

"Pity, I was hoping it would."

She let out a little scream of pent up frustration but regretted it immediately; she heard Draco's soft chuckle from the bathroom and knew he had won.

Hermione sat on the end of the bed and waited. Perhaps he would need help with something else? She didn't want to just leave him, even if he was being quite insufferable. She was human; she felt pity for him even if he did not want it. She couldn't imagine what it must be like, having your sight taken from you when you had relied on it for so long.

Ten minutes passed and she was seriously considering leaving the room. Maybe he knew she was in his room and was waiting for her to leave. Maybe he was taking a shower and she could just not hear it.

Curious all the same, Hermione leaned against the door to the bathroom, and was surprised at what she heard.

Sobs.

Hermione gently opened the door and peered in against her better judgment. Had he fallen and hurt something? But he was not on the ground, instead leaning over the sink, tears streaking his pale face and one hand resting on the disfigured side of his face, feeling the crevices and rips and tears. Hermione took a hesitant step inside the bathroom, her heart reaching out for him. He looked so…lost and confused. A part of her was forgetting that it was Draco Malfoy, a boy who hated her, and that part of her wanted nothing more than to reach out and help him. "Draco?" She said, and he immediately stiffened, his blank eyes flashing in her direction and settling on somewhere to the right of her. He wiped the evidence of his tears on his sleeve.

"Get out." Malfoy snarled, and Hermione was surprised by the sudden ferocity in his tone. He turned so that the only side of his face that she could see was the ripped flesh, and she felt a stab of fear. He looked like some horrible monster out of the horror movies…and she had not brought her wand up here with her. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

"Malfoy, I'm sorry – "

She had gone too far. Draco reached blindly and grabbed the first thing his fingers touched – a potted plant sitting peacefully on the counter. He flung it at her and Hermione screeched, the pot shattering against the wall only inches from her head. He lunged at her, following the sound of her voice, and his fingers gripped her arm tightly. She pulled away and blanched. The torn flesh that pulled at his lip made him look as if he was smirking, and it made Hermione panicky. He still managed to look menacing, even without the normal emotion in his eyes. She was glad that he could not see the fear in her own eyes.

"This is your fault." Draco hissed, his grip tightening and causing Hermione to wince. She tried to pull away but he would not relent his grip on her. She wondered if she should scream, or let him get this out of his system. Would he kill her? "If you hadn't been so damn hard to find, I'd be able to see your face. I'd be able to see your dead face."

"You wouldn't kill me." Hermione whispered. "You weren't able to kill Dumbledore and you wouldn't be able to kill me."

"Oh yeah?" He barked out and laughed harshly, as if mocking her. She tried not to focus on the distorted side of his face. She tried not to look in the emotionless voids; the pupils that were shaking from lack of focus and making him look somewhat deranged. Instead, she focused on the way his voice shook from his tears, and the way his hands trembled. "You think I'd give a damn about you when my own life was at stake? You think I'd care about you above myself? Do you think I'd lose a wink of sleep if I had killed you?"

"Yes." Hermione said, knowing it was probably unwise, but also knowing that it was the truth.

Draco roared – she had never seen him this angry, _never_ – and with one powerful push he sent her flying into the wall. Her back collided painfully with a vase and it shattered, some of it sticking in her back, and she slumped to the ground, stunned. Yes, Draco Malfoy was a Slytherin, yes, he was a Death Eater, but no, she had never thought him capable of such outright violence. It had to be some sort of way he was coping with the pain.

Draco just stood there, one corner of his mouth turned down, one corner unnaturally turned up – she got the impression that he was trying to glare, as his eyebrows were pointed downwards, but there was no anger in his eyes. There would never be.

"Granger." He said. She did not answer, worried that it would push him over the edge again. Why was he saying her name? "Fuck, Granger, say something." Draco took a step towards her, his arm outstretched, as if trying to find her.

Oh, how incredibly _noble_, he was regretting his over-the-top action of hurting her. How positively _wonderful._ Hermione pushed herself up, her back aching, and he seemed to hear her movement as his eyes snapped in her direction. "Congratulations, Malfoy. And I was actually beginning to feel sorry for you."

And with that, Hermione left the room.

She did not turn to see his expression, did not bother to see if he needed help getting back to his bed. He seemed to be adjusting just fine, if he could grab her and slam her into the wall. She winced as she stomped down the stairs for effect – her back hurt. As she reached the kitchen, all of the Weasleys were sitting around the table looking at her with curious expressions. "You ok, there?" Ginny asked, a small smile on her face. Hermione scowled at her friend's teasing.

"He hurt you, didn't he." It was no question. It was a statement. Hermione glanced at her best friend in surprise. Harry was staring at her solemnly, his eyes serious.

"What?" Ron roared, standing up immediately. The entire atmosphere in the room had changed. Ginny was no longer smiling. Mrs. Weasley looked shocked. The twins watched, waiting for her answer. Ron was clutching onto the edge of the table, looking murderous. Damn Harry's perceptiveness.

"It's not a big deal, Harry." Hermione said quickly, standing up straighter. Why was she defending him? He had hurt her, but Hermione was afraid that Ron would do something rash, like throwing him out on the streets for the Death Eaters to finish off. She had a feeling that they would not be happy that they had not finished the job. "He can't see, remember? He just accidentally pushed me…into the wall." Harry's glare told her that he did not believe her lame story. "Ok, ok, I sort of provoked him anyway." Hermione relented, holding her hands up. "It was my fault. It won't happen again."

Lies, lies, lies. Hermione did not like to lie. She had never been too terribly good at it, either, but Harry and Ron seemed to calm down a bit. Ron sat down, at least. "You shouldn't provoke him, Hermione." Harry scolded. Hermione sat down and accepted the punishment. He was treating her like a little girl, though, and it was getting annoying. "He isn't exactly emotionally stable, I'm guessing."

"I know, I know." Hermione sighed. "He's just so frustrating." Now that, _that_ was not a lie. Hermione did not hate him; her parents had taught her better than that. But she disliked him to a point where it was very close to hate. He was prejudiced, rude, and had proved to be violent in his emotionally unstable state.

He was scared, alone, and lost. The side that he had chosen had scarred and blinded him. He was most certainly not evil. When she thought of evil, images of Bellatrix and Voldemort flashed in her mind's eye. She did not consider Draco Malfoy to be evil. Yes, he had willingly chosen that side, but she liked to believe that once he had made his decision, he had realized that he was in way over his head.

And the physical violence he had just shown – Harry was right. He was in emotional turmoil, and violence was a natural reaction, especially to someone he didn't remotely like – wait, scratch that – hated. She was pretty sure that she would not be reacting too politely if she had recently had her eyesight taken away and was in a foreign place with people she hated. And, not to mention, with absolutely nowhere to go.

And she was not being very kind to him, either. Hermione was not afraid of him. She was a Gryffindor, after all. She did not fear Draco Malfoy, not one bit. He was blind and wandless. She had been caught off guard when he had attacked her. Perhaps she could stand to be a little kinder to him. She knew it would go unnoticed. But if her parents were here (they were currently safely hidden in America) she knew that they would want her to do her best to be polite. They had taught her better than this.

She could help him.

Right?

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**A/N: Next chapter we get a little insight to what's going on in Draco's mind :) Thanks for reading! Tell me what you think :)**


	3. Hate Me

**A/N: Yay, another quick update! This chapter came out really easily :)**

**Thanks to: Amortentiaa, LookingforNirvana, Ceylon, vesper, and Love-Never-Fails for reviewing! It truly makes me really happy to read reviews, so thank you!**

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_It is a great truth that says that the worst blind person was the one who did not want to see._

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Chapter 3: Hate Me

When Draco had been younger, he had been afraid of the dark. His mother had enchanted a portrait on his wall to glow, and he had been able to sleep at last without needing the presence of his mother. He had grown out of it eventually, but he now felt that same stifling fear of the dark again. It was suffocating, and there was no escaping it. It was dark _everywhere_. He wanted to see something, see _anything_, but he never would again, and it was that very reason that he constantly had to deal with panic attacks and was quietly sobbing himself to sleep every night.

It felt as if the darkness was closing in around him. What he would give to see a light. To see a face. Hell, he would even settle for seeing Granger's hideous face at this point. If he saw it, it would probably be the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, simply because he would know it had all been a lie.

But this was no lie. He had allowed himself to believe that for a few hours, but there was no point. No spell was this complex. And he found it hard to believe that someone like Granger would be that cruel. No…this was permanent.

He was terrified. He hated living here, because enemies that could off him at any point surrounded him. He was completely defenseless. The only little hope was that they wouldn't stoop so low, because they were noble and all that shit. But it wasn't as if he could leave – as much as he hated to admit it, he was safest here. He was sure that Death Eaters would be prepared to attack him the moment he showed his face. They would want to finish the job, and the pain that would accompany it was enough to make him shiver in fear.

Unwanted images of a green fire, taunting voices, and horrible pain filled his head.

"_Come on, Draco, that's all you've got? No fight left? Your father would be terribly ashamed."_

_Another flash and the pain elevated to new levels. His face was on fire, he was sure of it, and he kicked out but connected with nothing. Draco shrieked, clawing at his face that felt as if it were melting underneath his fingers._

"_Ha, he shrieks like a little girl! Come now, Draco, it's not that bad. You should've been able to kill that pathetic Mudblood. Really, how did she get away from you? A Mudblood outsmarted a Malfoy. Or…did you let her slip away?"_

_The pain multiplied, as if rising with the Death Eater's anger. He only screamed louder, writhing in the grass and his own blood, wishing, for the first time in his life, that he could just die so that the pain would end. He didn't want to die but now he really did and he just wanted the pain to end, wanted it to stop, wanted it to go away and oh shit I'm going to die why can't they just end it now?_

_The Death Eater's laughing filled the clearing, mixing with his screams of anguish._

"_Take the pain, Draco! Like father like son, eh? Cowards, the lot of you! I took great joy in taking away your parents' lives, Draco, great joy…they were failures, just like yourself, and you will suffer the same fate as them."_

_And then there was green fire, and that was the last thing that he ever saw again._

Draco snapped out of the memory with cold sweat running down his face. He could feel the tears on his cheeks and wiped them away, rolling over in his bed and pulling the covers to his chin. It was damn cold in this house. He hated it. He hated the lot of them. He hated everyone.

Especially Granger. She acts all superior and mighty to him until the moment she saw him crying. And then she was all, oh, let me help you, oh, I feel so horribly for you…Fuck her. He did not feel guilty for attacking her, no, not one bit. He would admit that he had attacked her in a moment of uncontrolled rage and he was not even sure where it had come from. He just remembered blaming it all on her, because it was her fault, and being so damn angry.

There was one moment, though, after she had fallen silent where he had felt an overwhelming amount of fear. Had he really hurt her? Was she unconscious? They would kick him out if he had hurt her, they would throw him out on the streets…and in that moment he had regretted hurting her. But after he left she had felt nothing but hate take over again, that uncontrollable rage that he was constantly feeling but was not used to. But it just wouldn't go away.

Draco heard the sound of the door opened and snapped his head up. "It's me." Came the voice, and he immediately scowled. Why did she persist on bugging him? He just wanted to be alone.

"I just…I just wanted to ask you something." Draco wished that he could see her face. Was she nervous? Anxious? Or plotting his demise for attacking her? He had been fairly good at reading other people before, but now that had all been shot to hell. "Where are your parents?" Draco's stomach immediately fell to his feet. He attempted a glare, furrowing his eyebrows together and refusing to even point his sightless eyes in her direction. "I mean, they might be in danger too, right? We could go get them and bring them here. They'd be safer."

What was this? Was she trying to help him? After he had attacked her? The nobility of Gryffindors was sickening. "That's really touching and all, Granger, but they're dead." He heard her gasp and felt anger rising in him. She didn't care. She had hated his parents. So why act like she gave a damn?

"How? Why?"

"The other Death Eaters killed them for trying to protect me. Now I'd appreciate it if you'd get the hell out of my room." He wasn't even sure why he had told her what he did. She didn't deserve to know. But the words had come spilling out of his mouth and now he wanted her gone for making him feel so vulnerable.

"I'm sorry, Draco. I didn't know."

"Don't use my first name. A filthy Mudblood such as yourself cannot use my first name."

"I can use your first name if I want. No offense, but you're not really in the position to order me around." If he had known how to growl, he would have. How dare she mock him and the state he was in. Who did she think she was? "I was just trying to help, and I'm sorry for bringing it up. I know that it must be painful for you."

"No you don't." He said quickly, hating himself for the way his voice shook. "You know nothing. You've never felt pain. You've never felt anything _bad_. Have you ever killed someone, Granger? I have. Have you ever been the reason that the people you cared about died? I have. Have you ever been tortured? I have. Have you ever been left to die? I have. I'm sick of your Gryffindor shit and bravery and what you call kindness. I. Don't. Want. It. I don't want you, I don't want your help, and I don't want your presence in my room, so get. The. Fuck. Out."

There was nothing but silence for a long moment, and he could practically hear the whirring in her brain as she tried to figure out some cunning little comeback. He was curious as to what her facial expression looked like and was frustrated that he could not see it. Was she angry? When he heard her let out a little sigh of defeat, he was surprised. "Fine. But you're going to have to come downstairs to get your own food, if you don't want me bringing it up to you."

There was a slamming of the door and she was gone.

* * *

She really wasn't just going to leave him up here to starve, was she? She expected him to go downstairs to feed himself? What happened to her stupid kindness? Since when did she ever listen to him? Now was a really horrible time to start.

Hours had passed since Granger's angry departure, and his rumbling stomach was begging for him to find food. He had no way to tell what time it was, which was really grating on his nerves. Was it even nighttime? He figured he would've been feeling tired if it was, but there was no way to tell other than when he began to feel drowsy and when he woke up.

How was he supposed to get food for himself? Was he supposed to crawl downstairs and hope that someone was down there to direct him to the fridge? How embarrassing! That was beneath his dignity, for sure. He was a Malfoy, and did not resort to crawling for food.

But as the time ticked by, he realized that he did not have much of a choice. If this was how Granger wanted to play it, then so be it. He could go down and get his own damn food. He was not helpless. He was not a child. If she thought he would just lay up here and starve to death, he'd just go and prove her wrong.

Draco slipped off the bed and felt along the wall where he usually heard Hermione come in, searching for a doorknob. When he finally found it, he opened the door silently and took a hesitant step into the hall.

So…straight, right, or left? He had no idea where to even begin. Draco sat down and began to slowly shuffle on his butt forward, using his feet to feel the space in front of him. His feet connected with a wall after a few slides, so he turned to the right and began to slide forward, probing the area in front of him with his feet.

It was tedious work. He was slightly nervous that he was going to miss the stairs and tumble down them. Damn Granger, damn Granger, damn Granger, he thought furiously as he continued the slow movement forward. What a bitch. How could she stoop so low as to make a blind man search for his own nourishment? Bitch, bitch, bitch.

Draco's left foot suddenly only met thin air, so he twisted around so that his hands were in front of him. He reached down and felt the first step, then crawled on to it. He continued this movement until he could hear the promising sounds of chattering voices. He switched his position so that his feet were stepping on the stairs first, and slid down a few steps.

"_What_ are you doing?"

The voice shocked him out of his concentration and his foot slipped. He landed painfully on his butt and scowled, casting what he hoped was a glare in the direction of the voice. "Your bitch won't bring me some food, so I'm having to resort to getting it myself."

He could practically picture Ronald Weasley's face turning purple and smirked, uncaring. He tried to hide his embarrassment of being caught having to crawl down the stairs by insults, and hoped it was working. Besides, he was hungry, and did not particularly want to deal with Weasel.

"Listen, that 'bitch' is probably the only thing keeping me from throwing your pathetic arse out on the street for your own people to finish you off. So I suggest you treat her a little better."

Draco scoffed, edging down the stairs at his snail pace. The faster he could get away from Weasley, the better. He was already in a bad mood, and Weasley's idiocy was making it worse. And what the hell did he mean? Why did all these people think he cared about kind deeds? He didn't. He didn't give a shit about their kindness, and he wished that they would get that into their heads. Did they think that since they had taken him in and healed him that he would suddenly love them all? No. That wasn't how the real world worked, and he wished that they would understand that.

He heard the clunking of steps and knew that Weasley had taken his silence for a victory and moved on. He silently cursed to himself but began his descent down the stairs again. Some help Weasley had been. He could have at least pointed him in the direction of a fridge.

His foot finally connected with solid ground without a step underneath it. He stood and crossed his arms over his chest, in case anyone were to see him. He took a hesitant step forward, slightly afraid that he had misjudged that he had reached the end of the staircase.

"Mr. Malfoy? Do you need something?"

He shot his head in the direction of the voice. It was slightly familiar to him, but he couldn't name it. The voice was laced with concern and questioning, and he scowled. What was with all these people? "I need food." He said shortly.

"Hermione didn't bring it up to you?"

"No, she didn't. And I'd appreciate it if you'd get me some." His cold voice made it come out as a command and he had to suppress a flinch – if he didn't play his cards right, he could be kicked out on the street. These people were gaining nothing by keeping him here. He did not even want to think of what the Death Eaters could do to him if they found out that he was still alive.

"Well she went out with Harry, dear. I'll fix you a plate and make sure I tell her that she forgot."

He wanted to angrily retort that she did not forget, he really did, but something about the woman's voice was telling him that there was no point. There was really no point in arguing, was there? Not when she was making him food. He could smell the delicious aroma, as well – he was guessing he could smell some tomato soup in there, and baked chicken.

"I'm Mrs. Weasley, in case you didn't recognize my voice. Here, I'll help you to your seat if you'd like. That's right, just sit right here. Now here's your plate."

He allowed the woman to guide him to a seat, and even allowed her to help him sit. He suddenly felt horribly tired and drained. He wasn't aware when it hit him – he didn't even know what time it was. He began to slowly shovel food in his mouth and the woman kept chattering away somewhere in front of him. He wished he could see what she was doing, but he guessed that she was washing dishes from the judge of the sound of running water and the chink of plates.

"Hermione and Harry went out to check on a raid that happened here shortly. Some Death Eaters attacked a Muggle town, and they went to help. Ron didn't go because someone always has to stay behind out of them three. They take turns. I'm not sure why, something about them knowing something that only the three of them know and that one of them always has to remain alive. It's very melodramatic. I'm glad Ron is staying tonight, though. It always worries me when they run off. I know they're adults and everything, but a mother can worry, right? Ginny went with them, and she's so young. I know Harry won't let anything happen to her, though."

She shouldn't have reminded him of his mother. She really shouldn't have. She was a Weasley, and his mother was a Malfoy. His mother was smooth and sophisticated and Mrs. Weasley was a blood-traitor and a fat, good-for-nothing woman. But there was something about the edge in her voice – something that reminded him of when his mother told him to be careful when he left for Hogwarts. Something that was making him feel sick, something that was making the edges of his eyes prick with tears.

" – they went with Lupin, and Moody, and Kingsley, but I'm just so worried. Harry and Hermione are like my children, and if anything happened to them, I wouldn't know what to do. I know they're extremely involved in the War, and they aren't going to sit around and wait for things to happen, but I wish that they would stay at home more often –"

The hunger had completely dissipated. He found the edge of the plate and pushed it away from him, the smell making him feel sick. He wished that she would just shut up. He wanted her to shut up. He pressed his hands against his ears in an attempt to drown out her voice. She needed to shut up. Right. Now.

"They should be back soon, though. They've been gone for a few hours. Those Death Eaters…they're horrible, aren't they? Heartless. We'd never – dear, are you ok?"

He opened his eyes (no sight; darkness) and removed his hands from his ears, suddenly realizing that he had allowed a few tears to escape. He wanted _out_, he wanted out of this house and out of this war and he wanted to go home to his mother and father and wanted to feel his mother hold him tight and wanted to feel his father's love in his own special way and he wanted _out_ –

Draco suddenly stood up and made a crazed dash to get out of the room, but his foot caught on something that he could not see and he crashed into the edge of a chair and then into the floor. He heard Mrs. Weasley shout his name in alarm but did not move for a few seconds, pressing his face into the ground and trembling.

"Draco? Draco, are you alright?"

He just wanted to go somewhere that wasn't so foreign, he wanted to be surrounded by people he knew, he wanted to be able to see, and he wanted to get away from these people. He wanted to get away from these people that acted like they cared for him but really didn't. He wanted to wake up. Shit, he just wanted _out_.

Draco pushed himself up with his arms and sat still for a few moments. He could _feel _that mad woman hovering over him, could feel her eyes on his back and could feel the concern.

He could feel his mother's worry, could feel her piercing blue eyes watching him, and could feel the cool, steady hand of his father's on his back. He could feel the silent, unspoken love radiating from the both of them, could feel their pride and disappointment at the same time, could feel their worry each time he set off for Hogwarts.

He could hear their screams, could hear their demands to not touch him, could hear the cold laughs of the Death Eaters. He could hear the _Avada Kedavra_ twice, could hear his own scream of horror, could hear the thumps of his parents' bodies falling to the ground, lifeless.

And he could _see _their dead bodies in his mind's eye, could _see _the cruelty of the Death Eaters shining in their eyes, could _see _the blonde hair pooling around his parents' heads, and could _see _their dead eyes staring at him with their last acts of love shining through. He could _see_ the blood, the blood pooling around their bodies that the Death Eaters had drawn out of them to show him an example of what he would soon look like.

Draco laid back down on the cold ground and sobbed, uncaring of the red-haired woman hovering worriedly behind him. He sobbed and cried and beat the ground until he could feel the gooey stickiness of blood seeping from his hands, he kicked and pleaded and screamed and bit his tongue until he tasted blood so that he knew he was alive, he touched the side of his face and felt leathery, distorted flesh – he began to claw at his face in an attempt to just _rip _out those pointless, dead eyes, he wanted them out of his head, he wanted to get rid of the mental picture of his parents' dead faces and he just _knew _that if he gouged out his own eyes then the pictures would erase, would be gone – he felt blood underneath his fingernails and he was so close he was _oh so close_ so he tried harder, ripped harder, clawed harder, he welcomed the pain, what was so wrong about pain, really, his useless eyes _needed _to come out, they needed to be gouged from his skull…

There was a muttered spell, darkness, and only when the pain ended did he realize that perhaps it was best to not feel pain at all…

* * *

**A/N: So, as you can tell, Draco's not exactly...stable. I think I like torturing Draco in my stories for some weird reason...maybe to pay him back for all the mean things he did to Hermione! Haha, tell me what you think! Review!  
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	4. Destroy Me

**A/N: Yay, new chapter! **

**Thanks a bunch to: charmedpiper1819, muffinz113, Ceylon, vesper, Misti D, and Amortentiaa for reviewing last chapter!**

**Vesper: I'm sorry, but I meant to answer your last question last chapter but I forgot. Anyways, to answer it: No, Draco is not going to be healed. That'd be a bit of a cop out, you know? And to respond to your latest review: Yes, Draco was a bit pathetic in the last chapter, but that's only because I'm attempting to keep him in character. Overall, Draco IS a bit of a pathetic character and wouldn't exactly handle the situation as, say, Harry would. He's not very brave and he's not very strong, but that's what makes him a believable character. He most certainly is not perfect. And he's going through a lot. "A guy needs somebody-to be near him. A guy goes nuts if he ain't got nobody. Don't make no difference who the guy is, long's he's with you. I tell ya, I tell ya a guy gets too lonely an' he gets sick." - Of Mice and Men**

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**_"I'm only human." - _Flowers for a Ghost, Thriving Ivory

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Chapter 4: Destroy Me

Hermione shuffled inside the warmth of the room in relief, ringing out her hair in annoyance and muttering a quick drying spell. Harry was right behind her, hanging his cloak on the rack near the entrance with a tired sigh, and Ginny was right behind him. Hermione just wanted to crawl into bed, if she wasn't afraid of having nightmares from what they had just witnessed.

It appeared that the Death Eaters' new favorite spell was the same one that had taken away Draco's sight. When they had arrived at the Muggle town, the screams had been permeating the air and the Death Eaters had been laughing at their pain. They had wasted no time in jumping into the fray, but the Death Eaters had apparently not wanted a fight – they disappeared the moment they caught sight of the Aurors. The rest of the time had been spent trying to heal the Muggles that were still alive, and taking care of the bodies of the ones that had not survived. It was nasty business, but it had to be done.

The first thing that caught Hermione's eye was the floating sweater that was being knitted next to the fireplace. It was a dark green color and was halfway done – Hermione could see half of a 'D' forming on the front in silver writing. She was almost afraid for Mrs. Weasley's sanity – knitting Draco a sweater? She didn't think he'd be too pleased with it…but he couldn't even see it, after all, so maybe they could just tell him to wear it without him knowing what it looked like.

The next thing she saw had caught Harry's eye as well, and they both stared in surprise at the sleeping body on the couch. Draco was curled up on the couch, lying on his left side so that only the untouched side of his face was visible. His face and his eyelashes were wet, and she could tell he had been crying. He just looked so…vulnerable. Yes, that was the right word. His body was curled into almost a fetal position, and his face was not peaceful as it should be in sleep, but troubled.

The wave of guilt that smashed into Hermione almost made her gasp. This was most likely her fault – she had not brought him food, and maybe he had gotten hurt trying to get down the stairs to get himself food?

"What happened?" Harry voiced Hermione's unspoken question to Mrs. Weasley, who was surveying the knitting while sitting in the large armchair in the corner.

Mrs. Weasley looked up in surprise. She had been so distracted by her thoughts that she had not even noticed them enter. Her eyes fixed on Draco with obvious pity. "He came downstairs to get some food – you must have forgotten, Hermione," (the guilt was painful), "and I fixed him a plate. I was just…talking to him, and he was eating, and I looked over at him and he had his hands covering his ears and was crying. I asked what was wrong and he bolted up and tried to run, but his foot caught on the leg of the table and he smashed into the chair and fell. He lay there for a moment, then started kicking and screaming and then began to…claw at his eyes. It took me a moment to remember the right spell, I was so panicked. But I spelled him into unconsciousness and levitated him on the couch."

Clawed at his eyes? She had known he had not been in exactly the right state of mind, but had not known it had been this bad. She looked at him and saw the signs – the little inflamed scratches around his eyes and on his eyelids, and she could see blood underneath his fingernails on the hand that was resting on the edge of the couch.

Oh how Hermione wanted to know exactly what he had been thinking. What had caused the breakdown? It didn't have anything to do with her, did it? She hoped it didn't. She wasn't heartless, after all. She didn't like to feel guilt. He looked so helpless, lying on the couch with his tear-tracked cheeks.

She couldn't blame him for the way that he had been treating her. That was how he had been raised, after all, and he was lost and scared, which made him hostile and unfriendly. Who was she to label him just as he had labeled her? That would be stooping to his level. Nothing productive would come of it and it would be pointless, really. How could she learn to be the woman her parents wanted her to be, and that _she_ wanted to be, if she couldn't look past a few childhood memories? He had an excuse for his current behavior; she did not.

"We should get Snape to make him a Dreamless Drought. He doesn't look like he's sleeping too peacefully." Hermione said, taking off her robe and resting it on her arm. Mrs. Weasley nodded in agreement.

"I thought about Owling him, but I figured he would be doing important business for the Order right now. I'll ask him for some when he comes back. I want to talk to Lupin about him, too. That's…not normal."

"It may be, for him." Harry said, speaking up at last. "I don't like him or anything, but it could be a natural reaction to some of the things he's been through. I mean…we don't know how much pain and torture he went through before they left him in the woods. We don't know what he's been through."

"It's kind of sad, isn't it?" Ginny asked softly, her warm brown eyes focused on the blond lying motionless on the couch. "I mean…he doesn't deserve it, does he?"

Harry's green eyes darkened. "You don't know that. You don't know how many innocent people he's killed. For all we know, he deserves it."

_Have you ever killed someone? I have._ Draco's words came flooding back to Hermione and she shivered. He had killed; he had said it himself. But who? Who had he killed? Had he done so willingly? Had he cared as he took away a life? Possibly even more lives?

"Don't say that." Hermione said finally, shaking her head. "He's not…evil. He's not like them, and you know it. You told me he wouldn't have killed Dumbledore if he had been given all the time in the world; you said it yourself."

Harry shook some of the rain out of his hair. Hermione knew he was just buying himself time to answer, but he fell silent again until Mrs. Weasley said, "He isn't a bad child. He was thrust into his situation with no one asking him how he wanted to live. I suggest you three go off to bed; everyone else has already retired for the night."

"No," Harry glanced at Mrs. Weasley with apprehension in his eyes. "Lupin is coming, in a few minutes. To check up on us. We can ask him about Malfoy."

"I don't think any of us could sleep right now anyway." Ginny said quietly, looking down at the floor. Hermione silently agreed. She didn't want to close her eyes until she had had a good swig of some Dreamless Draught. She didn't even want to think about how she would relive all that she had seen in her dreams. Harry wrapped his arms around his girlfriend silently and she turned into him, her eyes red. Hermione respectfully looked away and even Mrs. Weasley allowed their contact.

It did not take long for Lupin to arrive, and they ushered him to an empty room away from Draco, in case he were to wake up and listen in on their conversation. "I brought some Dreamless Draught." Lupin said, taking a large vial out of the pocket of his robes and setting it on the table the moment they sat down. They each thanked him silently. Lupin had been at the raid sight as well, and had seen the same thing that each of them had seen. He, however, was older, and more used to the horrors. He knew how to handle such things.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?" Lupin asked, taking off his coat and draping it on his arm. He leaned forward and attentively listened to Mrs. Weasley as she told him of Draco's meltdown in detail. Hermione found herself horribly uncomfortable but stayed.

When Mrs. Weasley had finished, Lupin leaned back and was silent for a few moments. He finally unclasped his hands and leaned forward again. "I think it is normal." He said slowly, as if testing each of his words. "But it would not hurt to be a bit more…kind to him."

"And if he's not kind to us?" Harry asked harshly, and Hermione agreed with his question. It wasn't as if Draco acted like he appreciated their efforts.

"That is completely understandable, Harry. You have to look at it from his point of view. He is lost, scared, and alone. He is striking out, sometimes violently, because he has to act like he is in control, or else he will be vulnerable. He wants you all to think that he is perfectly fine so that you wont think that he is weak and finish him off. He doesn't understand that we want what is best for him, and if one were to tell him, he would probably think it as a trick. You _have_ to understand that his anger is simply because that is his defensive tactic. Strategically, it is intelligent and reasonable for him to feel that way. Not to mention, he is angry and bitter about his situation. I would be…careful around him, though. He has already shown violent tendencies," Lupin nodded his head at Hermione, "and I don't think he would hesitate to do it again if provoked. He is not mentally stable and would be likely to attack one of you, even you girls, if he felt threatened or was horribly angered. I would be very careful around him and always have your wand. He might not even know what he was doing if he were to attack you. It is a normal reaction to such a tragic event."

Hermione clasped her hands in her lap and spoke. "I remember reading something in a Muggle psychology book. It said that trauma patients sometimes heal better if they get out all of their aggression in one moment."

Lupin knew what she was thinking, just as Hermione knew he would. He shook his head the whole time she spoke, and when she was finished, he pointed a finger at her and his voice grew stern. "Don't even think about it, Hermione. He could be really dangerous. Don't do it."

"Do what?" Harry asked, completely oblivious to her and Lupin's inner glaring war.

"She wants to provoke Draco into attacking in an attempt to get all of his inner turmoil out of his system at one time."

Harry's brow furrowed and Hermione knew he agreed with Lupin. "Hermione, he could hurt someone. We should just leave it alone, for now. He'll get better on his own."

Hermione begged to disagree. It seemed more to her that he was getting worse. She could not help the fact that she wanted to do just that – to help. She felt horribly responsible for Draco's first meltdown, first of all, and she also was a caring individual. She didn't like seeing Draco so vulnerable and…well, messed up.

But she was outnumbered so she sulked to her room that night without even saying goodnight. Harry could sense her bitterness so didn't bother her. Hermione showered and crawled into bed, her mind on Malfoy the entire time. It was kind of sick, really, how she kept worrying about him. She really shouldn't. He would never care about her, not at all. He had hurt her.

And he could hurt her again, tonight. She could go in there and do what she wanted to do and he could even kill her if provoked far enough. She could take her wand and if it got out of hand she could attack him back. She could take some of what he could dish out. She wasn't a child. She could handle pain.

Successfully having talked herself into it, Hermione rose out of bed in her sweatpants and tank top and crept up the stairs as silently as possible. Draco's room was on the floor above her's, and she was fairly certain she had heard Mrs. Weasley ask Harry to help levitate Draco back to his room.

She opened the door as quietly as possible to find the lights off. Knowing it wouldn't bother him or he wouldn't even notice, Hermione flicked on the lights and saw him immediately.

His back was to her and he was just staring at the wall. No, not staring. But his eyes seemed to be fixed on the wall opposite her. He was sitting straight up and bed and she could tell he had tensed and knew that he knew she was in there.

"What do you want?" He asked coldly.

* * *

Draco did not want her here. He did not want anyone here. He did not want to be bothered. He was currently trying to hide his panic. He had felt the inflamed scratches on his face and had remembered what he had done, but did not remember making the conscience decision to attempt to rip out his eyes. He knew he was probably going mad – how ironic. The Death Eaters hadn't succeeded in killing him but had succeeded in something they had originally said would happen when he first was given his Dark Mark – he was losing his mind.

"Face me." Granger demanded, and he was surprised. Lately, when she had been talking to him, she had used that pathetic tone that told him that she pitied him.

He obeyed, curious, and raised an eyebrow. "Bad mood?" He asked sarcastically, crossing his arms over his chest and attempting to discern where she was – directly in front, maybe?

"Stand up."

"You're getting a bid demanding there, Granger. Something wrong?"

"Do it or you won't be staying here anymore."

Draco scowled and stood. Damn her. What was her problem? What happened to her feeling sorry for him? That sure did last long. His wrist was suddenly grabbed and he jerked back but she held tight and pressed his fingertips to something just below his chin. "This is my face. For future reference."

She had lost her mind as well, was that it?

"I just want to say something." Granger said, and he could hear the scorn in her voice, but it did not sound right. Granger was not supposed to speak with such…maliciousness. "Your parents would be ashamed."

Something deep inside him gave a twinge of pain and he grimaced unexpectedly. What was she on about? That rage deep inside him growled and he had to resist hitting her. What was her problem?

"Really, Draco, you're pathetic. You're allowing yourself to slowly lose your own mind. You're too busy wallowing in your own self-pity to realize how pitiful you're being." His fingers twitched. "What kind of Malfoy are you? I doubt your father would appreciate this, you know, showing your weaknesses to a Mudblood. Your mother is probably rolling in her grave. Your father would probably spit at your feet if he saw you now…but, you know, they can't. Seeing as they're dead. What a pity. But, not really, because they were horrible people anyway. I'm glad they're dead."

That thing deep inside of him snapped and Draco exploded.

After the first punch he felt nothing but spite and anger. He wanted to kill her; he wanted to kill her so very badly that it was gnawing at his insides. She needed to die for saying that about his parents, she needed to feel the pain he was feeling, she needed someone to do this to her.

After the second punch he felt something crack underneath his fingers but he was too blinded by rage to care. She deserved this.

The third punch he realized that something wasn't right about this, something was ethically wrong about this, right?

The fourth punch he swore he heard his mother sigh, but realized it was only Granger. And then he realized, shouldn't she be fighting back by now? Why was she just standing there and taking it? Why wasn't she doing anything?

After the fifth punch he sobbed.

He sobbed and cried and hated Granger for knowing _exactly _what to do to make him fight back. He hated her for being so damn knowledgeable and he hated her for taking his punches without fighting back and he hated her for just being a Mudblood and he hated her for knowing more about himself than he even knew and he hated her for being _her. _He wanted to run and get out just so he did not have to be in the same room with her and he needed out, he needed to be free of all of this and he needed someone - _  
_

He heard her little sniffles but somehow he knew that she was not crying because of the pain. He reached out and touched his fingers to what he had been punching only seconds ago. He traced the bridge of her broken nose, he touched her lips with his fingers and felt the cracked dryness and the blood, he touched her soft eyelids and traced her eyebrows and touched her hair and traced the lines of her face and closed his sightless eyes as his hands felt the wet tears and the wet blood.

And he felt truly ashamed.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, brokenly. "I'm sorry." The fear was inching up his chest. He knew that the moment Potter or Weasley caught wind of this they would dump him out on the streets, they would drag him out of the door and leave him for the Death Eaters, and the Death Eaters would truly make sure that they had successfully killed him. But she provoked him! And he could not find it within himself to be angry. "I'm sorry." He was, he truly was, he did not want to hurt her, he had not wanted to truly hurt her.

"It's ok." Hermione spoke, and her voice was oddly calm. He sat on the bed and rested his head in his hands, feeling the mutilated flesh underneath his fingers. "It's alright."

She touched his hands and he let her because he truly did not care. He did not want to know the pain that he had just caused her and did not want to argue anymore. He did not want to waste energy on the pointless bickering. There were more important things to deal with in the middle of a war.

"One quick spell and it will be fine." Hermione said, her voice dangerously close to his ear. He winced away from her and she released his hands immediately. Draco was relieved. "I didn't mean it about your parents. I really didn't."

"I know." And he did.

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**A/N: So I know some of you may be thinking that Draco wouldn't actually hit Hermione, but I think I made it clear why he actually did it. And I think I'm going to change the summary to this story again. Maybe. I can't get it to the way I like it! Agh. Oh well, I hope you guys liked this chapter!**


	5. Know Me

**A/N: Firstly, this chapter was a pain, which is my explanation for the lengthy time in-between updates.**

**Secondly, I have officially become addicted to Glee. It's awesome.**

**Thirdly, this is the shortest chapter I have ever written in any story. This could mean that I could have another chapter out really quick, though. Like in the next few days.**

**Thanks to: charmedpiper1819, underamyth3, Erica, Amortentiaa, Love-Never-Fails, vesper, and Misti D for reviewing last chapter! You guys are the reason I update :D**

**Amortentiaa: Ahh, but wouldn't that ruin it? Haha  
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_"Kindness is a language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see." - Mark Twain_

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Chapter 5: Know Me

Dreams cruelly taunted Draco all night.

He dreamed that he was in a forest clearing – a clearing filled with all the things that he had once been able to see with his own eyes. He saw flowers, and trees, and the sky, and a river, and he saw the sun, and he remembered what brightness was. He remembered what it felt like to have to squint against bright lights; he remembered what it felt like to not be afraid of the dark. He remembered what beauty was and he appreciated the little things in nature that he had not once thought of before.

There was a figure standing just ahead of him in the clearing. The person was a woman; of that he was certain. She stood with her back to him, and her white dress was blowing in a nonexistent breeze. He was experiencing an unfamiliar, overpowering curiosity of her. He felt the need to see her face – to see her, because he knew if he did he would learn all the answers to every secret that still existed in the world.

"Hello?" He called out, longing for her to just turn and face him; he needed to see her, he needed to see her face.

Look at me.

He began to jog towards her, continuously increasing his pace until he was sprinting. She seemed to only grow farther away the faster he ran, and he called out again, worried that this nameless entity would vanish. She could not leave him, he needed her.

See me.

The woman turned to smile at him and he was stricken with such overwhelming shock that he stopped in his tracks and took a step backwards.

It was Hermione.

Draco woke.

* * *

A quick spell to fix Hermione's broken nose and a spell that she had learned from Lavender made her face look as good as new. She had covered the bruises with Lavender's beauty spell and she had to say she was impressed – as she inspected her face in the mirror she could not detect a sign that she had been punched in the face four times.

Hermione had been foolish to think that it would not hurt so badly. She had thought that since she had suffered the Cruciatus Curse once in a fight with Death Eaters that surely other pain would not even amount to it. It had been a foolish thought, for sure. Why had she thought that simply because she had endured the worst pain imaginable that she would never feel pain again?

It had _hurt. _Every fist colliding with the exact same place – the bridge of her nose – had hurt so terribly badly. The pure, untamable rage in Draco's face had hurt. It had hurt her being; that she had caused him such pain. It had hurt to say those things to him. It had hurt to hurt him.

But it had been worth it. She had seen a glimpse into Draco's inner turmoil when he had realized what he was doing. She had seen his true suffering. He had apologized to her, which had initially shocked her to the core, but pleased her all the same. She was _almost_ looking forward to seeing him today.

But she did not know what she was supposed to say.

Was she supposed to pretend like it never happened? Or bring it up? Was she supposed to be friendly, or let him? Would he even act differently?

Hermione was expectedly nervous as she opened the door to Draco's room with his breakfast tray in her hands that morning. He was laying in his bed, the covers to his chest, his eyes closed. "That you?" He asked, which startled her a bit. She had thought he had been asleep, but it was honestly hard to tell.

"Yes, it's me."

He sat up, his eyes still closed, and extended his arm. She sat the tray in his expecting hand and he placed his meal in his lap and began to eat. Hermione sat in the wooden chair next to his bed, leaning back and observing him for a moment. He was eating with slow, meticulous moves. There was a perpetual frown on his face and she could tell that something was disturbing him. "Something wrong?" She asked casually.

He tilted his head to the side and scowled. "Why do you care?"

She grinned, tilting the chair back and propping her feet up on the edge of his bed. He felt the shift and immediately shoved her feet off the bed. "Hey!" She protested, and he smirked. Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at him, ignoring the gloating look on his face at having succeeded in annoying her. "Anyways," Hermione said, changing the subject, "I care because I'm a caring person. So? Something wrong?"

"Yes." He said, his face suddenly becoming quite serious as he stared straight ahead of him, his eyebrows creasing over his sightless eyes. "There's a rather annoying know-it-all in my room."

"Don't you mean that you're incredibly fortunate to have such a wonderful presence to keep you company?"

"I don't need anyone to keep me company."

"Everyone gets lonely."

"Some people prefer loneliness to torture."

"Torture? I'd hardly say that my talking to you is torture."

"You aren't on the receiving end."

Hermione frowned at him. "I'm glaring at you, right now. Just informing you."

"I figured."

Draco had not once directed his eyes towards her and it was beginning to unnerve Hermione. He had continued to stare forward, his hands continuously shoving his meal into his mouth. "Someone's moody today."

"Surprise, surprise."

"I could schedule a Hogwarts reunion. I could invite some of your old friends." She had said it with a teasing tone, but his gaze somehow darkened. She shivered, worried that she had said the wrong thing. Had she offended him?

"Friends?" He scoffed. "That word means nothing to me."

Hermione knew she should drop it at that moment. She knew she should have changed topics as quick as possible, but that horrible, nagging thing that mankind called curiosity was clouding her first judgment. "What about Crabbe and Goyle?" She asked softly.

Draco, finished with his meal, managed to place the plate on the desk next to his bed. For a long moment he said nothing, simply sitting there, as still as stone. He did not move, did not flinch; the only thing that suggested that he was alive was the constant shuddering of his eyes. Finally, he whispered, "They were there."

Shut up, Hermione, drop it. Hermione disobeyed her conscience. "Where?"

"They helped blind me."

Oh Merlin, change the subject, drop it now before you get in too deep. Drop it now before you make him have another violent mood swing. She _needed_ to change the subject, she needed to do it _now, _and every ounce of intelligence in her body was telling her to. But she couldn't. "And Pansy?" She whispered, unsure if she wanted the answer.

"Left the first chance she got, with Zabini. I don't know where Parkinson is, and I don't care." Draco leaned back against his pillows and turned his back to her.

"Draco, I'm sorry." She sat on the edge of his bed and he immediately tensed, his body becoming rigid and unwelcoming. "We aren't like that. You know that."

"How on earth am I supposed to know that, Granger?" He mumbled, his voice coming out muffled through his pillows.

"Well you know it now. You're stuck with us for a while, alright? And we aren't going to abandon you."

Draco did not answer for a very long time, and Hermione was beginning to think it was her time to leave. She stood up from his bed and was about to reach for the doorknob when he said, softly, "I'm sorry. For last night."

"It's alright." Hermione said quickly, hoping to assure him that she was willing to take what she had caused. It had not been his fault, and she understood that. "I forgive you."

He turned so that his blank eyes were staring at her with such intensity that, for a moment, she forgot that he could not see her. She stiffened under his scrutinizing gaze and felt like he was trying to figure something out. Childishly, Hermione was tempted to stick her tongue out at him since he could not see her, in an attempt to rid herself of the chills currently working their way up her spine.

Finally, without a word, Draco turned his back to her once again and closed his eyes.

Hermione left the room.

* * *

He was messed up. That was the only explanation. Draco was messed up because he had had that dream and he was messed up because Granger was making it so impossibly hard to hate her. And he wanted to hate her so very badly.

He wanted to hate her because he was afraid of what would happen if he did not. For as long as he could remember, Draco had hated three people the most: Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger. He had hated them and they had hated him and life had been good. It had been _normal_.

Therefore, the only probably explanation for things being normal was for him to continue to hate the trio. But one of their damned members was making it so. Fucking. Hard. Why did she have to go and do these…things that made him question his hate? That made him wonder why he had even hated her in the first place?

Yes, she was a Mudblood, but prejudice would get him nowhere in the home of Potter. At least, that was where he figured he was. There was really no way of knowing, as he had not previously known where the Order of the Phoenix was.

He _needed_ to hate Hermione because that was the only way of having some sense of normalcy in his current life. He needed to hate her because he'd be disgracing his father's memory if he didn't hate a Mudblood, right?

He just didn't know anymore. He just didn't know what to think.

And he had no idea what he was supposed to do.

Damn it.

At that moment, he heard the sound of his door opening. It creaked open and a shiver immediately ran down his spine. Something felt off about this; something wasn't right. That was not how Hermione entered the room. This wasn't right. "Granger?" He asked, tilting his head in the direction of the door and scowling to show his discomfort of her not announcing herself. Why was she back so soon?

"Isn't that cute, Rookwood? He's expecting the Mudblood. They must have bonded."

Draco stiffened at the sound of his torturer's voice. Greyback.

Greyback had been promoted to Death Eater after a particularly large battle had caused a massive increase in casualties on the Dark Lord's side. A lot of Snatchers had been promoted, then, and Greyback had immediately relished in his new position, flourishing and flaunting his power in front of many subordinates. One of Greyback's first orders of business had been torturing Draco and blinding him. He had not bitten him, thankfully, most likely because he thought that it would be wasteful to bite someone that would soon be dead.

"It is rather sweet. Shame we have to ruin this touching moment."

Draco tried to run – tried to escape, he tried to make a dash for the door but an arm slammed him backwards and he fell to the ground. "Poor thing, you blinded him, Greyback!"

"How ironic." Greyback snarled. Panic was rising like bile in Draco's throat and he squirmed but a boot smashed into his chest, pinning him to the floor. How had they gotten in? How had he not heard them? "Don't worry, Draco." The werewolf said. "We're going home."

There was a bang, and then darkness.

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**A/N: And that is why this chapter is so pathetically short. Because I'm cruel and I love cliffies :)**


	6. Rescue Me

**A/N: I know I promised this chapter only a few days after the last one, but it proved to be more difficult to write than I thought it would. Sorry, guys! At least it wasn't a two week wait :)**

**Thanks a bunch to: Kasseraandra, potato4, Erica, nature love 95, pink-strawberries, Just take my Hand, underamyth3, Amortentiaa, Misti D, and Vesper for reviewing last chapter! Thanks for all the positive reviews and advice!**

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**_And the earth spins round while the people fall down_

_And the world stands still, not a sound, not a sound_

_There is love, there is love to be found_

_In the worst way - _From A Shell, Lisa Germano

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Chapter 6: Rescue Me

The first thing that Draco was aware of was a pounding headache and someone talking to the left of him. They were speaking in low, hushed tones, as if talking about a very confidential secret. He groaned and stretched his body, surprised to find that he had full use of his limbs. Fear was coursing through his veins and his stomach twisted at the thought of being captured.

Now if he could only see where the hell they were.

"Draco? You ok?"

Granger's voice was the first that he was able to make out in the confusion of his surroundings. She sounded strained and worried, and he did not blame her. He was the one who knew how this worked. They would separate them, so that they did not have the comfort of companionship as they were 'interrogated'. Interrogation meant torture until the Death Eaters learned what they wanted to know. And Draco happened to know that Greyback liked to play with his food before he ate it. He also happened to know that some of the new Death Eaters were not as civilized as the previous ones that they had lost. They were…well, the new ones sickly enjoyed having a woman subject rather than a man. It was a dirtier form of torture and twice as effective, so Voldemort allowed it. The new Death Eaters were sick, twisted men with too much time to think about new ways to torture women and it unnerved Draco.

"Draco? Hello?"

He had been too lost in his thoughts and belatedly realized he had not responded to Granger. "Yeah, just peachy." He muttered sarcastically. "Where are we?"

"Right now we're in a cell. Not sure where exactly we are."

She sounded much too calm and in control of the situation and he shifted nervously. Did they already have an escape plan? His heart and mind were racing and his frazzled brain was producing ridiculous ideas of escape routes – ones that would be impossible to accomplish due to his lack of knowledge of where they were. "Who all is here?" He asked lowly and uncomfortably.

"Me, Harry, Ron, Ginny, Neville, and Fred. Everyone else got away."

"Great. A warning would've been nice, by the way."

"Oh, yes, next time I'll be sure to politely ask my captor if I can go up and have a word to you upstairs." Someone snorted at Hermione's words.

Draco scowled at her sarcasm.

The cell suddenly became chillingly quiet and Draco heard the telltale sign of a squeaky door being opened. He stiffened immediately and felt someone's leg pressed up against his as a body scooted farther away. "Rise and shine, sweetums. It's time to play."

* * *

Draco, his arms tied roughly together behind his back was shoved to the ground, face first. He struggled to hoist himself to a sitting position and tried not to show too much emotion in his face as he sat. He knew how these things worked. Their entire group had been taken out of the cell and what was presumably the questioning room and Draco was a bit surprised that they had not been separated. He felt sickeningly queasy and afraid. Would they be angry that they had not finished him off? Or pleased that they had caused him so much pain?

"Take off his ropes." Draco heard the distinct voice of his aunt say, directly in front of him. "Don't you hear me? Take off my nephew's ropes, now."

"Do it." Greyback commanded, and suddenly the ropes tying Draco's hands together loosened and fell to the ground. He rubbed his wrists and was unable to keep the shock from his face. What was going on? Bellatrix had never been one for family ties. He knew that she had not been pleased with word of her sister's death, but he did not think she had mourned for very long.

"Give him the wand." Commands were obeyed, and a wand was hastily pushed into his hand. He gripped it, uncertainty washing over him, mixed with dread. Something wasn't right about this. Something was wrong about this. "Put the Mudblood in front of him."

He heard the snarl of Greyback as Bellatrix's words were obeyed. He heard Hermione's grunt of protest as she was shoved directly in front of Draco. And he understood, and felt no comfort by it.

"Go on, Draco." Greyback sneered, uncomfortably close to his ear. Draco felt the warm breath on his cheek and shivered. "You know what you're to do. Kill her, Draco, kill the Mudblood, and you will be accepted back as a Death Eater with a clean slate. Fulfill the task that was set for you."

Chills ran down Draco's spine as Greyback growled deep in his throat. So this was it? This was the move that was going to decide the rest of his life? He was finding himself at another one of those damned crossroads: take the road on the left, or the right. He had been at one when Dumbledore had been telling him that he could help Draco, and here he sat at another. He could do it. He could do it and everything would be just as it had been. Draco was weak. He was oh so weak.

Potter and Weasley were roaring at him. They were shouting curses and insults and threats at him, as if he'd pay attention. If anything, it was making the grip on the wand in his hand tighten, making him severely want to just kill the Mudblood so he could shut them up.

"Just one little Curse, Draco, and it will all be back to normal. You will have your life back." Bellatrix whispered in his ear, and he frowned.

Could she get him his sight back? No. Could she get him his face back? No. Could she bring his parents back? No.

"If you kill her, Malfoy, if you do it I swear I'll – "

"It'll be the last thing you ever do you – "

Their pathetic threats were angering him and he was getting annoyed quickly. Did they not know that they were making him want to kill her to shut up his enemies and prove them that he could do what they didn't want him to? Didn't they know that they were practically condemning her?

"Stop." Her soft voice was spoken quietly, but it somehow carried over her two best friend's voices. Draco froze. "Let him decide." Hermione said calmly, and Harry and Ron immediately silenced.

He wished he could see her face to get a glimpse into what she was thinking. Did she think he'd do it? Or had she trusted him with her life? What did she think? Did she trust him? Did he trust her? How could she trust him so readily? It made no sense. She didn't make sense. He had hurt her, been her enemy, hated her, and here she was, telling her friends to let him decide whether or not he wanted to kill her. Was it worth it?

Did he even want his old life back?

His parents…his sight…his face…

Anger was boiling in him. He _hated _Bellatrix. He _hated _Greyback. He _hated _all of the Death Eaters and he _hated _Voldemort.

And he did not hate Hermione.

Draco let go of the wand.

Greyback snickered and muttered, "Told you he wouldn't do it," and his aunt growled. But Draco felt_ proud_. It was his choice. He had finally made his own choice.

And suddenly, somewhere far in front of him, there was a huge explosion. Draco was lifted from his feet from the blast and sent flying a few feet in the air; he collided into someone and grunted in surprise as hands pulled him to his feet. "Go! GO!" Someone was screaming, and it sounded suspiciously like Potter.

"Don't leave him! WE CAN'T LEAVE HIM!" Hermione screeched, and hands were gripping his back and pulling him from her voice. He tried to struggle and kick and fight but the hands were strong.

"_Stupefy!"_ He wondered where Potter had gotten a wand but he wasn't complaining as the hands that had been dragging him released their hold in an instant. He bolted forward, unsure of where he was even going and inhaled deeply and instantly regretted it, smoke filling his lungs and causing him to cough violently.

"GET THEM!" Draco's aunt screamed somewhere to the right and behind him. Draco tried to get away from her voice, running in the opposite direction. Oh shit, had they left him?

"Harry!"

Hands grabbed his arm and began pulling him forward. He instantly began to struggle but the voice of Potter said, "Shit, stop, it's me!" Potter pushed him forward and shouted, "Run straight!" and he heard the Boy-Who-Lived begin to shout spells behind him. Draco obeyed Potter's orders and ran straight, hoping he would not collide into a wall.

"Draco!" That was Hermione, that was Hermione behind him. "Turn left! LEFT!"

He obeyed, veering to the left and sprinting as fast as his feet would take him. He could hear the steady sound of Hermione's feet behind him as he continued to run in a race to beat the Death Eaters that were following them.

"Don't let them get away!"

There was a crash and something plowed him to the ground, he scrambled to his feet an instant after it happened and clawed his way forward again, out, get out – CRASH – he had to get out.

"Draco, right! Go right!"

Before he even had the chance to follow Hermione's orders, sweaty hands had grabbed one of his and were pulling him to the right. He stumbled and the hands jerked him upright before he had the chance to fall. "Come on!" The person shouted, and he knew it was Hermione, guiding him out of the house and to freedom.

"SHIT!"

There was a loud ripping sound and a scream – Hermione fell and pulled Draco to the ground with her. "Get down!" He plastered himself to the ground at her command, throwing his arms over his head as something heavy and solid fell on top of them. Hermione was back on her feet in an instant, bringing Draco up with her.

"Lupin!"

"Get down! _Stupefy_!"

The Aurors had come; if Lupin was here that meant that the Aurors were here with him, they must be safe, they had to be safe.

"_Avada Kedavra! AVADA KEDAVRA_!"

"Get out of the way!"

"MOVE!"

"Fuck, get the fuck out –"

"Malfoy! _MOVE!"_

The sheer confusion of the entire situation had caused Draco to freeze, and at the sound of Weasley's voice he allowed the pulling at his arm to begin to guide him again. His feet seemed to be working without his mind even telling them to – he honestly just wanted to lie down and wonder how this had even happened. Running blindly through darkness with loud explosions and screams was a dizzying experience, and he was beginning to feel the effects of it take over.

"Come on!" He heard Hermione scream, and he followed her as they sprinted – a gust of wind slapped him in the face and he knew he was outside; freedom.

"Snape!"

"Severus, here –"

"Him first, take him first – "

Hands gripped the back of his shirt roughly and dragged him forward, and then he felt the familiar pull of Disapparation, and he knew that they were safe.

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**A/N: So, we'll learn exactly what just happened next chapter. It might have been confusing, but that was the point, as I was trying to show it from Draco's point of view. Hope you liked it! And this was done yesterday, but the reason I did not post it was because I didn't have enough time - it was my birthday! What do I want for a belated birthday present, you ask? Why, a review, of course! XD**


	7. Author's Note

**Author's note**

**Unfortunately, it has come to the point in this story where I have become overwhelmingly lost in what I'm doing. I have decided to rearrange Love is Blind by deleting the chapters as far back as right after Hermione and Draco and the others escape capture by Bellatrix. As I have been frustratingly attempting to type up the next chapter for however long, I have realized that the storyline I have created will be so much better if Draco can _see. _Having come to this conclusion, I have decided to make the storyline of Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco infiltrating the Snatchers a completely different story. I will be posting the first chapter a few minutes after this note, so I do hope that you go and read it. The beginning will, obviously, have to be slightly different, but I promise that the only difference that will affect the main plot is Draco's ability to see. After I get through the beginning, the chapters that have been in Love is Blind will be in the new story almost exactly the same. I will most likely continue Love is Blind, but for right now it will have to come to a standstill, as I will have to think of an entirely new plot for it.**

**I apologize profusely for how unprofessional I am being, but I truly believe that the plot I have planned will be so much better if I am able to describe what Draco is seeing and will also be able to add a few little things that I wanted to earlier, but couldn't because it wouldn't work out if Draco could not see. I hope that this does not anger any of you, and I really do hope that you go on to read and review the (not necessarily) new story that I will post. I promise I would not be doing this unless I thought it was for the best. I have been warring with myself on this one for the past month, and have finally decided to go ahead with it.**

**Once again, I apologize if this upsets anyone. I promise that the new version will be loads better and make much more sense.**

**Thanks for all of your support,**

**-quackers102**


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